“I didn’t biteyourhand off,“ I mutter, pacing around in the sand.
“No, but you did try to bite my tongue off.” His eyes flash, like he goes back with memory to the day we met. “You’ve got aknack for that, don’t you? Biting. I can still feel your teeth on me from that time.”
Heat rushes through my body. Everything—my chest, abdomen, even the tip of my nose—suddenly feels hot. “I should have just killed you back then. Would have less problems now.”
He laughs—a raspy sound that mixes with the hum of the waves and the rustling palms. It does something to me, something I refuse to acknowledge, because the more I think about it, the stronger that pull gets. That little Evil I carry on my back talks to me again.
You could let it out, all that frustration, right on him, Gypsy. The kind of release that could spill some of his blood… or something else entirely.
“But then you wouldn’t have gotten to do all those things with me, would you?” His voice drops, sultry and smug. “Like behind Timmy’s tavern three months ago? You remember, don’t you? Moaning so pretty, legs wrapped around my shoulders, my tongue right in your—“
“Can you just fetch the damn bard?” I snap, spinning to face him, my cheeks burning hotter than the midday sun.Thismust be some kind of fever dream.
His smirk fades instantly. “Why?”
“Because,” I grit out, stepping closer, the heat between us flaring with every inch I close, “I want him here.”
For a second, I think I’ve broken down the wall I’ve kept so carefully between us. Our lips are so close, and for a split second, I almost want him to kiss me. Maybe I’d let him. But instead, he hollows out his cheeks, looks away, and just nods.
He turns on his heel, stalking back toward the ship, leaving me standing there, heart racing, thoughts tangled into a knot I can’t seem to loosen.
A shiver runs down my spine, cutting through the heat.
I force myself to take a breath, then another. I walk along the shore, scanning the sealine for something useful, and eventually pick up a couple pieces of driftwood. They dry so fast under this sun I can feel the change beneath my fingers.
I can’t believe I almost let him in again...
Before I can shake off the heat still buzzing under my skin, Zayan returns from the schooner—alone.
“He didn’t want to come,” he says, dripping wet, chest gleaming in the sun.
I narrow my eyes. “Didn’t want to come?” I repeat, incredulous. “He prefers staying on a ship over coming ashore?”
Zayan shrugs like it’s nothing. “I told him you wanted him here. Apparently, that wasn’t enough.”
I don’t buy it. The bard’s not one for solitude. Hell, when I jumped off the ship earlier, he screamed after me, asking where I was going, like a scared puppy. And Zayan? He clearly doesn’t like him. Something’s off.
“You didn’t do something to him, did you?” I ask, eyeing his wet chest and hair, suspicion lacing my words. “Right before I jumped. Did you tie him up or something?”
Zayan snorts, crossing his arms over his chest. “Seriously? You’re accusing me of pettiness now?”
“Well, did you?”
“No! You leapt into the water so damn fast I didn’t have time to think about him.”
I search his face for any hint of deception. Annoyingly, there’s nothing there—just his usual smugness.
“Fine,” I mutter, brushing past him. My gaze sweeps over the schooner. There’s no movement on deck, so I can only assume the bard’s holed up below. There’s probably still a lot of water there.
“What are you doing?” Zayan asks, following behind.
I glance over my shoulder, narrowing my eyes. “What do you think? I’m going back to the ship.”
“For the bard?” Zayan’s voice drips with disdain, like he can’t believe I’d waste my time.
I snap back without missing a beat, “Isn’t that obvious?”
I can practically hear him stomping behind me, his voice growing sharper, more agitated. “I don’t get why you care so much about him. He’s fucking useless.”
